Passing Glimmers
by Azelma
Summary: In 1874 there was born a child who would have a singular effect on many in the great city of Paris. In a story of lust, desire, betrayal, and angst the truth is brought to light about the one they called the sparkling diamond……
1. Prologue 1 January 1901

**Author:** Azelma  
**Rating:** PG-13 at the moment.  
**Summary:** In 1874 there was born a child who would have a singular effect on many in the great city of Paris. In a story of lust, desire, betrayal, and angst the truth is brought to light about the one they called the sparkling diamond…….  
**Feedback:** Reviews will be treasured, constructive criticism will be taken into consideration, and flames will be used to cook my dinner _:grins:_  
**Disclaimer:** The story and characters of _Moulin Rouge_ belong to Baz and Co. which was most likely taken from the following two stories: _La Dame Aux Camélias_ by Alexandre Dumas fils, and the Greek myth of _Orpheus and Eurydice_.  
  
**A/N:** For reference, I am not an expert on France, nor am I an expert of that specific time period. What I know has come from the various other books from the time period I have read. I expect this to be a very long story, and knowing me, the chapters shall be long as well. This story was actually started way back when Moulin Rouge came out on DVD, and I just haven't got around to posting it. Ever since I saw the movie I've always wondered why Satine was so afraid to fall in love. So, having a couple of years to think about it, discard it, and then eventually come back to it, I have finally started to write my vision of Satine's past, starting at childhood and going until she meets Christian, perhaps even until she dies. Any citations shall be made at the end. Enjoy!  
  
  
  


**Passing Glimmers**

  
  


Prologue - 1 January 1901

  
_Ama me fideliter, Fidem meam noto,   
Decorde totaliter, Et ex mente tota,  
Sum presentialiter, Absens in remota._  
  
  
Paris is a beautiful city, no doubt one of the most beautiful in the entire world. But none will argue when they say that the best time to visit Paris is in the winter. The city is especially breath taking in the midst of winter, blanketed in soft sheets of white silk. With roofs heavily covered, threatening to cave in on their inhabitants, and the streets white and untouched, a quaint scene is formed before ones eyes.   
  
At the end of the eighteenth century and the beginning of the nineteenth, those streets were covered with restless people, all of which had a story to tell. Now they were as empty as the city itself. Even more empty was the village outside it, Montmartre.   
  
Montmartre was the village of sin, the devil's liar, and eternal damnation for all those who entered. In truth, Montmartre was no more than a place for the Bohemians to spread their love for the arts. In the middle of this village was the towering windmill, the infamous bordello and the center of Bohemian life, Le Moulin Rouge.  
  
The once vivacious building was now deserted. Cobwebs hung in the doorway and on the wings of the windmill. In various places paint was faded and peeling, leaving dull red chips on the ground. To be blunt, it was a disgrace. If any of the previous occupants of Montmartre had happened to glance at the windmill, they would turn their head in either grief or dismay.   
  
It was this scene that met the eyes of the girl who appeared suddenly on the deserted street. She had appeared so suddenly that had anyone else been there, they would have sworn she was a phantom. A small hand, covered by a dark glove, traced over the weather worn wood of the windmill. Had you been close to her, you would have seen a mixture of remorse and pity upon her face.  
  
She sighed once, and drawing her brown cloak around her, she turned her back on the Moulin Rouge. She let her gaze wander to the building that was now in her view. It was one of those building which were designed for the last century and not for the present one. Great red lettering covered the side of it, reading _L'amour_, and beneath that was the only room in the entire building that seemed occupied. There was a faint light coming from within, but other than that, nothing else was visible. The shutters were closed, and the small balcony outside lay covered with snow.  
  
As the girl watched this room, she could dimly see a figure walking around. Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the front of the building, and proceeded to climb the stairs. The stairs were littered with dust, which rose as she softly made her ways up them. The adjacent room had been locked up and boarded, their occupants long gone. The only room still in use, the one that she had watched outside, stood at the end of the hall. Walking towards it, the girl steadied her breathing and smoothed the wrinkled in her clothing. She knocked softly.  
  
Receiving no answer after a few minutes, she carefully pushed open the door.   
  
Softly she whispered, "Monsieur James?"  
  
A gruff voice answered her, the speaker unseen. "Who's there? I do not wish to see any---" he stop short as he came into the girl's view. His blue eyes widened and his mouth remained partly opened as he gazed at the girl in the doorway. He stepped forwards and managed to choke out only one word.  
  
"Satine?"  
  
The girl stepped forwards about to say something, then stopped. She looked away for a moment, closing her eyes.  
  
"No. I'm not Satine."  
  
"Oh." The man averted his eyes, somewhat ashamed. "You look just like her except that you have grey eyes. I thought for a moment that you must be her. But that's foolish, she's dead, why would she be here?" He paused as he realized he was rambling and looked over at the girl curiously. "Who exactly are you?"  
  
"My name is Mariette Baudet. I am Satine's sister." She paused as she let her grey eyes search his blue. "I presume you are Christian James?"   
  
She shrugged off the cloak she was wearing, allowing a mass of rust colored curls to fall onto her shoulders. She folded the material and laid it upon the nearest table, her hat and gloves on top of it. She slowly allowed her gaze to wander around the room, taking in every aspect of it, while brushing dust off of her black dress.  
  
As she did so, the man before her studied her intently. He found himself in awe of her; she looked so much like his Satine, but that was of course due to the fact that she was her sister. He didn't even know that Satine had a sister. The only noticeable difference between them was her eyes, they were the color of steel while Satine's had been a brilliant blue. Realizing he had been holding his breath, he let it out slowly as she turned back towards him.  
  
"Monsieur, I am here on behalf of a letter I received a year ago concerning both you and my sister." Christian looked at her sharply, but she held up her hand silencing him before he could make an exclamation. "It was written by Satine. Monsieur James, it seems....."  
  
"Please," he said interrupting her, "Call me Christian."  
  
Mariette smiled softly, "Well then, Christian, I come on behalf of Satine. Tell me, how long did you know her for?"  
  
"A couple months" he said slowly. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"And did she ever tell you anything of her past?"  
  
Christian shook his head. "Only that she had loved another man before and that she had renounced him after he had cheated on her."  
  
Mariette raised an eyebrow. "Did she now?" Then, more to herself than to him, she whispered, "Ah well, it seems you have tried to make yourself believe it never happened, have you Satine? You foolish girl." She shook her head sadly.   
  
She rose from her seat and moved over to her coat. A faint rustling met his ears and he peered over at her curiously. Returning, she held a crumpled piece of paper in her hand, which she held out to him.  
  
"Here. It's the letter she wrote me. It's the last time I heard from her."  
  
Christian took the letter, dated the 27 of December 1899, and glanced down at it.   
  
  
_My Dear Mariette,  
  
I begin this letter knowing that it will be my last. I have not written you in many years now for fear that you would ignore my letters or send someone after me. It was foolish, I know you would not betray my secrets, but I could not help fearing it all the same. Mari, so many years have passed and you have missed so much. I fear that there are not enough words to convey all that has happened. But let me start with the good and end with the bad.  
  
Mari, something wonderful has happened. I am in love. He is beautiful and talented, and above all, he loves me for who I am and not for my body. His name is Christian James and I wish to spend the rest of my life with him. There is so much I wish to write, but alas, I have limited time and there are not enough words to convey what I am feeling. If only you could see how happy he makes me.  
  
Oh Mari, I wish you could meet him, he is wonderful and I'm sure you would adore him. Unfortunately there is a slight problem. I cannot go into detail at the moment, but in short, if Christian does not leave, he will be killed. I have brought this upon myself, I have played the harlot for far too long and finally God has punished me.   
  
To make matters worse I am dying; I have consumption. I don't know how long I have left. I shouldn't even be writing to you, I am forbidden to do so as it takes too much out of me. Lord Mariette! I'm not yet six and twenty and I'm already dying. What has my life become? I am ashamed of myself Mari, and I beg you now to forgive me of all my former sins. Those that went unnoticed in my mind back then have long been plaguing me and I wish for your pardon.   
  
My dear sister, I have little time left in this world. When I die, there is no doubt that Christian will be in mourning for some time, longer than is healthy for him. All I ask is that you pay him a visit and tell him of me, and by that I mean my past. Every part, the good and the bad, he needs to know.   
  
I pray you and the rest are in good health. Send my regards.  
  
Your loving sister,  
  
Satine_  
  
  
Christian's hands trembled as he folded the letter in half and handed it back to Mariette. Neither spoke for a moment and Christian shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"You fell in love with a fool, you know." Mariette spoke up suddenly, "She may have been my sister and I may have loved her deeply, but in the end she was nothing more than a beautiful little fool."  
  
Christian looked up sharply, his voice quavering. "Take it back, she was not a fool. She was brilliant, and beautiful, and--"  
  
Mariette raised an eyebrow amusedly as he faltered. "The best thing a girl can be in this world is a beautiful little fool. Don't defend what you don't know Christian."  
  
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He shrugged helplessly and slid into a chair. He motioned for her to sit, and once she was situated he asked her to explain herself.  
  
Mariette sighed deeply and looked away, contemplating on how to begin. She turned back to Christian, and smiled upon finding him scrutinizing her every move. She softly laid a hand upon his arm and met his gaze.  
  
Slowly, as if she were revealing a secret kept hidden for years, Mariette began to speak of the mysterious years Satine had never talked about, finally allowing Christian to see into Satine's past.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**A/N**  
  
- The title, Passing Glimmers, is actually a chapter title in my beloved novel, _Les Misérables_ by Victor Hugo, and can be found in Section V, Book I, Chapter XIII (or for those lazy people, around page 1210).   
  
- _ Ama me fideliter…… Absens in remota_ is Latin for:  
_Love me faithfully, See how I am faithful,   
With all my Heart, and all my Soul,   
I am with you, even though I am far away  
_   
  
-I am not completely sure on Satine and Christian's eye colors, I know it's terrible, but the lighting in the movie makes them change and I was too frustrated to figure it out, so correct me if I'm wrong.  
  
- _"The best thing a girl can be in this world is a beautiful little fool."_ comes from _The Great Gatsby_ by F. Scott Fitzgerald.  
  
- May I also note that this story is Satine's story as well as Mariette's, as the latter is telling the story.  
  
The next chapter will be longer, I just hate beginning stories, so that's the reason for a short prologue.   
  
Again, if anything's wrong relating to the history, grammar, or story please leave me a nice comment saying so. I read all comments, and can take criticism, so feel free to write whatever you wish. A comment is a comment! ;)  
  



	2. Vague Flashes on the Horizon

**A/N:** Ha, this chapter has been through a lot, which is probably why it's taken so long to get up here. It's been through Prom, a research paper, SATs, and most of it was written backstage during tech week, the whole thing being finished halfway through dress rehersal. heh. It's been a busy month. As a note, this chapter is mainly one to introduce you to everyone who will appear in the story, so it may be a bit dry and long. I realize there will probably be errors, as this was basically rushed, so bear with me until I re-edit. Hope you enjoy it though! And love to all my reviewers (C, She's a Star, barelyxbreathing, Sparkling Diamond, NatashaRostof, Yvi, Christine Bubbles, and Bohemian Diamonds) you guys make my day happy!!! :)   
  
  
  


**Passing Glimmers**

  
  


**Chapter I - Vague Flashes on the Horizon**

  
  
  
  
_"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things." - Robert Brault_  
  
  
  
_Paris, 1893_  
  
Satine Baudet pressed her handkerchief to her mouth tightly, trying desperately to smother a laugh. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself and sat up straight in her chair. She tried to focus her attention on the gentleman in front of her, but try as she might, she found it a hopeless cause. Absently twirling a strand of her red hair around her finger, she allowed her eyes to wander around the room.  
  
They eventually landed on her sister Mariette, who was currently staring out a window, obviously quite bored wit the gentleman as well. Mariette was Satine's senior by a year, and the second oldest of four daughters in the Baudet household. The eldest Angeline, was twenty-six, and already married. She was a petite girl with beautiful golden curls adorning her head and eyes as blue as sapphires. Angeline was a pleasant girl and didn't have a fierce bone in her body, she accepted everything and everyone. She had two children, one boy, Christophe (the elder by a year) and one girl, Marguerite. Angeline's name suited her, as she looked like an angel who had descended from the heavens.   
  
The youngest of the girls was a flighty strawberry blonde of fifteen, named Geneviéve. She was more concerned with her appearance and the effect she had on the young boys of the neighborhood than she was with her studies. Though she was flirty and rather vivacious, she was a kind girl who loved her sisters and who meant no harm by her actions.  
  
Mariette and Satine, on the other hand, looked nothing like their sisters. Both had acquired their bright red hair from their mother's side of the family, though Mariette's was a duller red than Satine's. The two looked as if they could have been twins, and a passerby would say the only noticeable difference was the color of their eyes. While Satine's were a brilliant blue, Mariette's were a deep grey.  
  
However, Mariette was more reserved than Satine. Oh, she was wild and had a terrible temper when aroused, but she knew how to hide it from the world. She was somewhat practical, though a dreamer and deep in her heart, was a true romantic. She was usually annoyed with her mother, and with the petty concerns of Geneviéve and most girls her age. This was mostly due in part to the strong surge of cynicism and wit that flowed through her body, handed down to her by her father. Her father liked to jokingly call her his rose in misery.   
  
Satine, on the other hand, bluntly put, was a flirt. She let her emotions lead her through life, rather than her brain. She was a smart girl, she just wasn't able to control the passion that ran through her body like a fire. She wanted love, and accepted any chance of it too eagerly. Mariette feared that the first man who told her he loved her she would stay with, whether he meant it or not. However, she didn't care for the rich, arrogant men who thought they controlled her, which frequently led to fights with her mother, who was forever trying to match her up with some eligible, young bachelor.  
  
The latter mentioned was the type of situation Satine found herself in currently. Her mother has taken the initiative to ask a certain gentleman by the name of Grégoire Moreau to call on her two daughters. Every Thursday he would come at precisely noon and they would either go out for a carriage ride, for a walk in the park, or just merely stay in the parlor of the Baudet house. Mariette and Satine weren't too fond of this arrangement or with Grégoire.  
  
He was handsome, and her knew it. His brown hair was tied back elegantly, held in a silken black ribbon. He had frighteningly green eyes, set in an oval face with a high forehead, a Grecian nose, and full, red lips. He was tall, yet thin and slightly muscular. Overall, he was the epitome of a man.  
  
Of course, that is only physical speaking. Grégoire was the type of man who had been spoiled as a child, getting whatever he wanted. It wasn't in his nature to be refused or ignored. He was rich, and knew the power he held over others. He was as arrogant as he was handsome. He had only three traits that helped him be as successful as he was in life: his physical appearance, his money, and his station in society.   
  
Disregarding his beauty, Satine found him insufferable. From what she had heard, he made a very nice partner at night, but she was too disgusted with him to even think of that. True, she was intrigued by his wealth, as she was with any rich man, but Satine wasn't as shallow as to marry a man only because he was rich. No, she wanted love.  
  
Wrinkling her nose as he talked on, she looked over at Mariette who rolled her eyes and stood up. She cleared her throat and delicately advanced towards Grégoire. Taping him lightly on the shoulder, she spoke. "Monsieur Moreau?"   
  
He stopped mid-sentence, and bestowed her with a smile. "Yes? What is it m'dear?"  
  
Mariette grimaced slightly at the endearment. "Grégoire, I believe my sister and I must retire now. We are going to the theatre with out sister and her husband's house this eve and we must freshen up. You have given us…..much pleasure with your visit. We hope to hear from you soon."  
  
Grégoire nodded. "I see. I don't want to keep you two fine ladies waiting, so I shall go. Please give your parents my regards and wishes for their health."  
  
Mariette nodded and allowed him to kiss her hand in farewell, and then Satine's.  
  
"Good day Mademoiselle's." he said, putting on his hat, and reaching for the door.  
  
"Good day Grégoire." Satine called after him, relief in her voice.  
  
Once the door closed behind him Mariette let out a sigh and plopped down in a chair next top her sister. Burying her face in her hands she muttered. "Mon dieu! Why the devil does he insist on calling? If he had _any_ intelligence whatsoever, he could tell that we despise him!"  
  
Satine grinned at her sister. "Yes, that's all very well Mari, but you know what Maman says - he's a rich, handsome man and to marry him would ensure our place in elite society." She paused, a look of disgust on her face. "As if we need _his_ help."  
  
Mariette cast a sly glance over at her sister. "Now really Satie. I thought you were all about marrying a rich man."  
  
"Oh of course I am, but I absolutely _refuse_ to marry someone as pigheaded as Grégoire."  
  
Mariette grinned and opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted as the parlor door flew open and Geneviéve flew in, her blonde plaits flying out behind her. A large smile was dancing on her lips, and her green eyes were sparkling mischievously. "Oh Mari, Satie, was Monsieur Moreau here again?! He's absolutely divine! I do hope one of you marries him, it'd be one of the best things ever to happen to me!"  
  
She clasped her hands together and sunk onto the sofa, already daydreaming about Grégoire. Mariette shot Satine an amused glance, and bit her lip, trying to hold back a grin. "Geneviéve, my dear, don't you think Grégoire is a little old for you? He's nearly seven years your senior! Besides, wouldn't you want a man who is.........well, a little more intelligent?"  
  
Geneviéve looked up at Mariette, startled, her green eyes wide. "Heavens no!" she exclaimed. "Who needs a man who's intelligent?"  
  
"Someone who wants to have an intelligent conversation, perhaps?" Satine said sarcastically, rising from the chair. "But I daresay you'll be more interested in the size of his bank account than his brain.   
  
Moving into the center of the room, she put her hands over her heart dramatically. "As for me, I'm going to marry a poet. Every night he'll serenade me with love ballads before we lay down to sleep."   
  
"Ah, but he'll have to be a _rich_ poet, won't he Satine?" Mariette asked smirking.   
  
Satine, with mock hurt, threw herself down into a chair melodramatically. "But my dear Mariette, I'm afraid you misunderstand me. What does money matter as long as I have love? All you need is love! It's like......oxygen!"   
  
She paused, and catching Mariette's eye, burst out laughing. Geneviéve looked at her two sisters confused. Mariette had collapsed to the ground in a fit of giggles and Satine was trying desperately not to slide out of her chair to join her sister on the ground.   
  
"Well, I hope that's not the way you two behave while in the presence of Monsieur Moreau."   
  
Mariette looked up from her position on the floor to grin at her mother. Ánna Baudet, a tall, lithe woman with light green eyes and faint red hair, now speckled with white, glared at her daughters. She was a proud woman, and in her early years, she had been a dancer. She had performed in various theatres throughout Europe, and might have even made her way to the Paris Opera House if she hadn't had met Philippe when she did.   
  
When Ánna was in her mid-twenties she left her home in Ireland to explore the continent of Europe. On coming to Paris she met a charming and witty young Frenchman by the name of Philippe Baudet. Stating that she was new to the city of Paris, he gracefully asked to be allowed to show her the city. Gratefully, she accepted his invitation and the two soon found out that they had a lot in common. Both loved the arts, were fond of the city, had come from large families, and were true romantics at heart. Ánna found Philippe's cool charm, wit, and ability to curb her anger rather refreshing while he found Ánna's wild nature and quick temper a constant source of amusement. Within a month they were courting, and in a year they had been married.   
  
Ánna never once regretted marrying Philippe, for they were well off financially and very happy with their four daughters, but Ánna always wished she could have had the chance to pursue her career as a dancer. In this aspect, she tried to push her daughters to have the chances she never had. Angeline had politely declined, saying she was not built for dancing, and did not have the patience, or the grace. Mariette was the unlucky one who was pushed into toe shoes the moment she could walk and taught to pirouette soon after. When Mariette was nearing her sixteenth year, Ánna's dream for one of her daughters to become a star had taken over her mind. She forced Mariette to go out to Paris to find a career of dancing. Mariette, being the rebellious child that every girl is at sixteen, found work as a part time dancer and entertainer at a less than suitable place, bluntly put, in burlesque. Mariette, much to her surprise, was enjoying herself at the infamous Moulin Rouge, which at the time, was just beginning to become famous. True, she became a star, but at a high price. After almost five years, she returned home, greatly changed. She was twenty then, and had seen enough of the underworld to satisfy her longing for a couple years. People thought that when she returned home, Mariette would be changed for the worse, but they were surprised, and pleasantly at that. She still retained her wild nature, but she was able to hide it when necessary, and she became more understanding towards others. Her cynicism, however, had worsened with the years spent in the bordello, and years of secrets and horrors filled her mind each night she lay down to sleep.   
  
Her years spent in the Moulin Rouge were hardly talked about, and the only time Mariette brought them up was to stress to her mother that Satine and Geneviéve didn't follow in her path. Mariette shook her head at the memory and looked up at her mother again, this time a bit wary.   
  
"Well? What did he say?" Ánna asked impatiently, hand on her hips.   
  
Satine sighed, brushing dust off of her cream colored dress. "The same old thing Maman. He just rambled on about how marrying him would help our family raise its social standings, and perhaps allow us to advance further in life."   
  
"The prick." Mariette snorted, mumbling under her breath, which earned her a glare from her mother. Geneviéve looked from Mariette to Satine curiously, cocking her head.   
  
"You know, I'll never understand you two" she said, shaking her head. "You seem determined to go through life finding fault with everyone and everything. You have the chance to marry a handsome, rich man and you turn him away just because you disagree with his character?"   
  
Mariette chuckled softly. "I think you're a bit young to understand it yet Gen."   
  
"Well she seems to understand a whole lot more about it than you do!" Ánna thundered, turning red.   
  
Satine sighed and went over to her mother. Taking her arm, she spoke soothingly. "Maman, please, can we continue this later? Mari and I have to get ready to go see Angeline."   
  
Ánna nodded and shooed Geneviéve out the door. "Go tell Nastasie to send for the carriage." Mariette nodded to her mother as she climbed the long, carpeted stairs to her room.   
  
  
Half and hour later, Mariette emerged from her room, mumbling about corsets that were too tight and about wearing outrageous numbers of petticoats. The maid passing by grinned at her and handed her the bag that she had just dropped. Mariette thanked her, and hurried down the stairs, careful not to step on her dress. It was a dark maroon and black chiffon dress that came off the shoulders, and trailed out behind Mariette's feet. Her hair was arranged on top of her head, a black ivory comb stuck in one side, and an individual curl hanging down on each side of her face. Grabbing her black cloak, she met Geneviéve at the door.   
  
"Where's Satine?" she asked breathlessly, trying rather unsuccessfully to get some breath in her lungs.   
  
Geneviéve shrugged. "Still in her room I guess." She sighed and looked over Mariette. "Oh Mari! You look dazzling! Send Angie and Julien my best wishes. Oh, I do wish I was old enough to go - you're so lucky, to be able to go to the theatre, then a party! Oh!"   
  
Mariette smiled softly at her sister. "If you're good, I promise to bring you something." she said, slightly amused. Then, with irritation, she called up to Satine. "Satine! Hurry up! You're going to make us late!"   
  
"Calm down Mari! I'm coming, I'm coming!"   
  
Breathlessly, Satine ran down the stairs, one hand on the railing, the other on her hair, making sure it stayed put. She had curled it for the night, and swept it up into a messy bun, with a few curls trailing down to the nape of her neck. Her dress was a dark blue, made of silk, with a black tie in the middle, accentuating her form. She smiled at Geneviéve, before being whisked out the door by an impatient Mariette. Gathering their skirts, the girls were helped up into the carriage, and soon were off to their sisters' house.   
  
  
An hour and two potholes later, Mariette and Satine finally arrived at Angeline's. Once she heard the carriage approaching, she had raced out the door, her children at her heels. She embraced her sisters as they climbed out of the carriage.   
  
"How was your trip?" Angeline asked, smiling at them as Satine bent down to pick up her niece.   
  
Mariette sighed. "Well........let's just say Paris seems to have an abundance of potholes in the streets. It's very dangerous you know." She rolled her eyes and then asked her sister where her husband, Julien, was.   
  
"Why? Did you miss me Mari? Seriously, I always had the idea that you hated me. Have my charms suddenly made you change your mind?"   
  
Mariette grinned and turned around to face Julien Grenier. Julien was tall, with blonde hair that curled slightly, especially as the locks fell onto his forehead. He had blue eyes that seemed to always be laughing at you. He was a well-respected lawyer in Paris, kind-hearted, and generally loved by everyone. Angeline adored him and Mariette was happy she had found such a good man.   
  
"Ah, Julien, mon chéri. You know I've _always_ loved you. You should watch out Angie, I might steal him away from you."   
  
Angeline grinned at Mariette and shook her head. "How's Maman?"   
  
Satine snorted as she came over to the group, carrying Marguerite and holding Christophe by the hand. "How do you think she is? She's irritated that Mari and I haven't fallen head over heals in love with Grégoire yet."   
  
"The Moreau boy?" Julien asked. "Damned snob. Met him after a trial once, he couldn't talk of anything but himself. I was tempted to dump my wine over his head."   
  
Angeline rolled her eyes and swatted her husband playfully on the arm. "That's very nice dear, but don't you think we should going? The show will be starting soon, and we still need to find out seats."   
  
Arriving at the theatre, Satine felt a tingle of anticipation flow over her. She could hear the orchestra warming up and the sound of the music filled her soul with ecstasy. She took her program from the boy at the door and glanced around the lobby of the theatre. A large poster adorned the wall, and in elegant gold lettering it read:   
  
  


_Les Rois  
By: Jules Lemaître  
  
Starring:  
Sarah Bernhardt_

  
  
  
Satine felt her breath catch in her throat. Sarah Bernhardt! The most famous actress in all of France! And she, Satine was seeing her! Shivering, Satine let out the breath she had been holding and stepped into the theatre. She had a feeling something amazing was going to happen tonight.....and she couldn't wait!   
  
  
  
  
**A/N:**  
  
- The chapter title is also taken from Les Misérables: Section I, Book V, Chapter V (or around page 168).  
  
- Ánna is very loosely based on Rose from the musical _Gypsy_.  
  
- Mariette and Satine's relationship with each other are very loosely based on Elizabeth and Jane Bennet from Jane Austen's _Pride and Prejudice_  
  
- Girls of that time usually acted younger than their age, which is why I'm trying to make Geneviéve appear more childish and naïve than her sisters.  
  
- I've tried to incorporate the good, as well as the bad in this. And the bad includes tight corsets, too many petticoats, and potholes in the very poorly made Parisian roads. Poor children ;)  
  
- Angeline is loosely based on Jane in _Pride and Prejudice_ and Julien is based physically on Enjolras in _Les Misérables_ and emotionally on Bingley in _Pride and Prejudice_  
  
- Jules Lemaître did have the play _Les Rois_ out in 1893, and Sarah Bernhardt played the part of Princess Wilhemine. It was performed at the Théâtre de la Renaissance, which I am pretty sure is not in Paris, but let's pretend it is for this sake :)   
  



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